


Tuesday With The McDucks

by AhmedMootaz



Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Before he risks being attacked by a child with a knife, Bonding, Comedy, Donald tries to be a good uncle, Family Bonding, Gen, Mad Scientists, Mostly Slapstick, To An Extent, schemes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 06:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AhmedMootaz/pseuds/AhmedMootaz
Summary: Ever since Della's return, Donald, though overjoyed, found himself taking the backseats when it came to spending time with the children. After all, he was the 'boring' regular uncle while both Uncle Scrooge and Della travel around the globe several times each week. Still, when an opportunity to spend some time with the boys arises, he immediately jumps on board, with all the chaos that comes with that decision.In which Huey has a breakdown because of milk and Donald tries to avoid being stabbed by a hyperanxious child.
Relationships: Dewey Duck & Donald Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Webby Vanderquack
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	Tuesday With The McDucks

Ah, McDuck Manor. It was a wonderful place, really. Its rooms were almost endless, the hallways spanned on for miles, and the collection of mostly lethal items and antiques that got expanded every other day certainly made it unique in a sense. It was where Donald Duck had spent most of his childhood, and it was often a pretty, if empty place. 

Perhaps this was how monarchs envisioned their castles. Spotless, massive, elegant. Or perhaps this was...this was...oh, forget it! He wasn't good at descriptions anyway. What mattered was that this manor was large, expansive, eye-pleasing, and basically was everything Donald never had for the last twelve or so years. Though it was rather lonely at times.

Not the current times, however, as now it was privy to the footsteps of little paddles running around in it all the time, and Donald couldn't be happier about it. After all, who wouldn't be happy seeing his favourite little nephews running around happily in their new home? He still used his house-boat, admittedly for no real reason other than how hard he worked to get it, but the children were more than happy to stay in their new home, a castle in comparison to where they lived before.

Of course, Donald didn't get to see the kids much these days, what with their mother returning and all. He still couldn't believe it. Twelve years. Twelve years stuck on the moon because of a giant termite just _had_ to rattle a dust storm. He honestly had to admire his sister's ability to not murder the thing and whatever hellspawn it had the moment she could. He would've. Maybe. Probably. He was still prone to fits of rage, but he felt the rage would've been justified at that moment.

Disregarding that, it was truly miraculous how the triplets loved Della so much. Duh, she was their mother, but they never saw her for twelve years. Not one single time. To them, she was the ghost they never asked questions about or he'd just remain silent and give whoever asked a glare. He truly feared that they may never get used to her as family. Luckily, however, a few near-death experiences and some adventures later, they learned to love her as what she truly was: Their mother.

At first, it alleviated some stress off of him, but then he realized he still needed to remain as mentor, not to the children, but to Della. She was doing a fine job, learning when to discipline and when to let things pass, but he still had to intervene to stop her from convincing Huey that crossing a piranha-infested river wasn't all _that_ dangerous.

Still, whatever critiques he gave Della, his beloved sister had grabbed the boys' attention for the time being. He couldn't blame them; both as someone new and the person they longed for their entire lives, she was certain to outshine Donald as the parental-figure for the moment, something that he absolutely had no issues with. No issues at all. Nuh-uh. What, was he fifteen? He could handle being outside the lime light for a few weeks. Months. Whatever it took.

-"Yep...no issues whatsoever...", he mumbled to himself, listening to his distorted voice as it plopped unceremoniously with no echo. He was sitting in his house-boat's living room, situated in Scrooge's pool. He had to swallow quite a bit of ego to bring the boat this far, not because it necessitated Scrooge's help, oh no, that was the easy bit. The difficult bit was seeing the fact that his uncle's _swimming pool_ was bigger than the boat he struggled to purchase.

Well, whatever. He could handle that. He handled many other situations that jabbed at his ego and you didn't see him crying. Not on the outside, anyway. He tapped rhythmlessly on the couch he sat on, sighing as he did so. Today was a slow day. A very slow day. No adventures, nothing that needed fixing, and Della seemed like she wasn't intent on putting herself in a life or death scenario, oddly enough. He was supposed to be happy about that, but honestly, it just bored him to death.

It wasn't as if the kids somehow left him and only sent him greeting cards, either. They, alongside Webby, saw him everyday, talked with him, but somehow...he felt like a third wheel. He didn't want to force himself in, but even if he wanted to, what would he do? He never had to go to the kids, they always went to him. He was watching something on his T.V. and trying to focus on it. It wasn't Ottoman Empire, surprisingly enough, it was something about...Uh...The African Penguin's migration to the island of Mayotte to save the world from the evil Lepoard Seals...? He rechecked the program. Ah. It was a movie. And here he was thinking it was a documentary.

Donald was a fan of movies. He really was. But today, he wanted to move and do something. Anything. He thought about that last sentence for a split-second before deciding he'd do anything that isn't life threatening. Last thing needed was for Scroo- sorry, Unca' Scrooge to somehow read his mind and send him down the Mariana Trench to search for some old treasure. He still needed to remember that he was living with his uncle again, and as such, politeness was due. Even in thought, because you never know when you'll think out-loud.

_Knock Knock KNOCK!_

He suddenly jumped. Well, not quite, he still ended up on the couch again, but he turned off the television, wondering if Mrs.Beakly was going to tell him he accidentally put an omelette on the mansion's cooker and then headed for his house-boat. He really didn't need to spend the afternoon putting out a fire before it reaches some mysterious artefact that shouldn't be touched. Not again. But at least it'll be something to do. He took a few quick steps, turned his door knob and opened it as quick as he could.

-"What is it, Mrs.Beakl-", he started, having thoroughly convinced himself that this was the situation before noticing nobody was in front of him.

-"Down here, Unca' Donald!", huh. How odd. She lost height _and_ lost her deeper tone. He moved his head down, suddenly realizing the past conclusion was probably made by some part of his brain that decided intelligence is for losers. The red hues immediately told him all he needed to know. It was Huey, accompanied by Webby, an overexcited smile on her face and her eyes practically glowing. She was cute, but also...unnerving?

-"Oh, Huey.", he brought a hand to his forehead, suddenly feeling very relieved he was not going to spend an afternoon putting out a fire. "What brings you here? Do you need more information on the Marines? The Navy?", he asked, bringing a smile to his beak. 

Admittedly, his time in the Navy was cut short because his sister suddenly disappeared into space, swallowed by the unknown dark abyss, and so he never really got to experience most of the...fun action the Navy got itself into these days. Still, he had enough knowledge to satiate Huey's thirst for information, and Webby's too, if the way her pupils dilated was any proof. He felt smug; he still had it in him.

-"Well, not really, I needed some help inside the mansion. I need someone to hold me some test subjects so that I can confirm whether or not the temporal anomalies the building sustained throughout the time changed the surrounding gravity or not. It would certainly explain why I've been having difficulties with liquids far more often now.", the younger Duck started, losing himself in an explanation that Donald tried to simplify into simpler terms. Huey's intelligence was most certainly gained from his mother's side. It wasn't that Donald was _dumb_ , per say, it's that Huey was _smart_. Too smart for any duck his age.

-"Okay then.", the older Duck replied, happy to be of help. He took a few steps forward, closing the door behind him. Expecting a nod of acknowledgement from Huey, it was Webby instead who started speaking.

-"Hello Mr.Duck Unca' Donald sir!", she jumped in front of him, somehow managing to stick the landing and continue on walking backwards. Donald loved Webby. He truly did, as any responsible adult would love a girl her age with such a bubbly personality, but he couldn't ever shake off the feeling that there was something a little...off in her. He always shrugged it off as her superior training, and so he did at this instant. He wasn't one to make the poor girl feel alien, she already had difficulty with everyone else. "While we're on our way to test the stability of the mansion, do you mind telling me what the world's greatest adventurer did in the Navy? How many bad guys did you beat up? Did you have to stop Glomgold or Magica in the Navy? Did you fire guns? Are dreadnoughts still in action?", she shot question after question at the overwhelmed sailor as they entered the massive house.

-"Well...uh...I mean, they still have battleships. We don't have dreadnoughts.", he began, following Huey to the triplets' room. "As for my work...I had training. Aim-improvement firing sessions. I think I had an encounter or two with those chumps in The Navy, but it didn't really change anything; they still lost, after all.", he boasted, taking in Webby's amazed glare as he entered Huey's room, having gone up the stairs that lead to it.

-"Alright Unca' Donald, hold this tube for me, alright? Tell me if anything happens to the water inside it.", the cap-wearing duckling handed the former-sailor a tube of water. He was expecting it to be a bit more...interesting, but as he stared at it, he found nothing. Just a tube of water. "Now this could take anywhere from an hour to two, so if you think you can't do it-"

-"What? Pffft, of course I can do it! I can do anything!"

-"That's mom's catchphrase.", a lazy voice announced from his bed. It would've made Donald jump had he not been used to it. It did, however, ruin his dramatic affirmation.

-"Well, yes, but since I'm her twin, I have the right to use half of the things she says, Louie.", his uncle answered, not without some dignity. The hoodie-wearing duckling slowly rose from his bed, laying his laptop beside him as he stared at the sight unfolding in front of him.

-"Do you have legal documents for that? Because I believe you may have just broken a copy-right agreement, which could allow one to sue for monetary compensation...", of course, con-man that he is and trying to be sharper than the sharpies ever since Unca' Scrooge told him he can be, would find a method to make money out of this. Well, he was certainly impressive, Donald gave him that. In fact, every one of his nephews was impressive in his own way. But Donald also had methods to impress people.

-"Your mother still doesn't know why the gas pipes exploded two weeks ago.", he bluntly stated, and yet his nephew kept a wide, if forced smile.

-"Yep, that'll be all the documents I need. By the way, do you _really_ want to teach your cute little nephews how to blackmail?!", he obliged, feigning shock at the end of his sentence.

-"Louie, I have literally learnt how to blackmail from you. Also, isn't it blackmail if you threaten me with a _lawsuit_ for a _catchphrase_? I don't really think _that_ has much legal basis.", came the reply, shutting down the last argument the cunning duck could hold onto.

-"Yeah, okay, fair point.", and that was that. For the moment, anyways, Louie would always fund something to argue with, and Donald would just have to find a counter-argument. Somehow. It has gotten a bit difficult these days, but Donald loved a good challenge. Well, actually, he didn't, but he dealt with them all the same.

-"Any new results, Huey?", the perky, energetic voice of Webby asked as she ran around, fixing some tubes and...balls attached to ropes? It was only now that he realized how unconventional the contraptions Huey set up looked. It was basically gears, nails, and various building materials cobbled up together to make a sort of...measuring device? And that was the least worrying one; the entire room was filled with makeshift machines of all shapes and sizes.

-"Nothing yet...If you could steady your hands Unca' Donald, that'd be great.", he said absently, prompting Donald to turn the tube in his hand a few centimeters. Well, he went from doing nothing and watching T.V. to doing nothing while watching his nephews. That had to amount to something.

-"Wow, you're really just going to stand there for Huey so he can prove that it wasn't his super shaky hands that made him spill the milk this morning, aren't you?", the smugly lazy voice of Louie called out, now under Donald. He'd heard him going down from his bed.

-"My hands are _NOT_ shaky, Louie!", the older triplet yelled, outraged by such preposterous claims.

-"Okay, Doctor Butterfingers.", his sibling teased, keeping a neutral face. Donald knew that was what got to Huey; the teasing, he could somewhat handle, but Louie's lack of expressions simply made his mockery get to Huey more easily. Luckily for the inhabitants of Duckburg, Duck War One-Thousand and Whatever could wait, as Donald was there to interfere. For now.

-"Actually, I will. It's a bit unwieldy, but I'll do it for the greater good!", there. A nice, dramatic statement, that should prevent the 'Do you really want to say that' ultimatum. Man, he really had to be a diplomat someday.

-"I don't think you'll call it the greater good when Huey realizes he just has butterfingers.", the little schemer whispered to his uncle, and suddenly, a very dark future flashed in front of his eyes. Well...all in time, he supposed. "Still, I guess you must really have one heckuva patience to just keep holding this tube.", he continued, this time a bit louder before adding under his breath 'uselessly'.

-"Well, yes, I am the most patient person in the world, no? I couldn't dream of starting fights with even the most annoying of people.", the older duck proudly claimed before making an expression that clearly told Louie to shut up about the four-digit number of times he lost his temper. It was better than being five-digits, at least.

-"Yeah, yeah, whatever.", the green-wearing duckling dismissed without second thought before picking up his sentence. "Still, I guess the mad scientist over there has reason to trust you; you _are_ pretty reliable."

-"Aw, Louie-"

-"Extremely reliable in fact!", Huey intruded on their chat, lifting his head from the calculations he was calculating. "I mean, really. Unca' Donald was there for us the entire time; remember that one time in the house-boat when the plumbing stopped working all of sudden and you tried going to the-"

-" _Please, for the love of all that is Holy, remember any other time I was useful. Just not....that!_ ", the once-calm sailor begged, his voice filled with dread and his eyes going blank. Well, that's untrue; he still had pupils, but he just wasn't...there. Lost in his flashbacks. The Great Toiletening. The horror.

-"Oh, right...forgot that we don't talk about it...well, either way, all I'm saying is that we really do appreciate what you do! Even if we never really talk about it. Or thank you.", the smarter duckling reflected, bringing a hand to his beak.

-"Well, it's the thought that counts!", Webby chimed in, positive as always. She was right. To an extent. A lot. Okay, maybe she was right, but Donald didn't have to let her know. He wasn't a mind reader, and so he appreciated whenever people spoke their mind to him.

-"I mean, yeah, she's got a point, doesn't she, Unca' Donald?", ah, Louie. Every time Donald thinks he cannot get any more smug, he goes and proves him wrong. "But I guess I should say thanks for everything. Even though you didn't buy me that self-refiling can of Pep Gyro offered...Hey!", he objected as his uncle ruffled his head-feathers with his free hand, a smile on his beak.

-"It was going to go evil and try to strangle us in our sleep and you know that.", he bluntly stated, keeping his smile.

-"I still think it was worth a shot.", the con-man replied, moving towards the room's door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a new method of getting richer than Uncle Scrooge, and I'll be accomplishing it by six in the evening.", he declared, opening the door to a beaten Dewey. "Dewey.", he nodded, passing by him.

-"Louie.", his brother nodded in return, waiting for him to close the door behind him. He looked horrible; a few scratches scattered on his face, his feathers were pointing in all directions, and his left eye felt less...firm than the other. "How much to you guys want to bet we'll have to save Louie from a demon or something by six?", he asked, pointing with a thumb to the door behind him.

-"What on _earth_ happened to you, Dewey?! It's not even three in the afternoon and you look like you crawled out of the grave!", Donald yelled, heading over to the energetic duckling, almost spilling the water in the tube. "Are you okay? Can you see with your left eye? Did you disinfect the wounds?", he shot question after another, trying to judge the severity of the injuries with his free hand.

-"Yeah! What happened to you, Dewey?! Don't you know that the demon-scheme was last week? This week it's the 'Try-to-trick-a-rich-man-scheme'! We'll probably have to discuss some silly law-whatchamacallit with a bunch of angry lawyers by five at most!", Webby happily corrected him, looking just a teeny bit oblivious to Donald's source of worry here.

-"I'm _fine_ , Unca' Donald. It's nothing big, mom was just...y'know. Doing mom stuff. Teaching me how to fight with the wilderness of the forest. It's no biggie.", the daring duck tried to deflate his uncle's worries, waving his hand nonchalantly, as if this was some regular occurrence he had to deal with. He failed.

-"Your mother took you to fight the _wilderness_?!", he repeated, grabbing his nephew's shoulder with his spare hand and trying to keep the other tube balanced.

-"Oh, come on, Unca' Donald, it's just basic stuff to learn!", he argued back, trying to shrug his shoulder before he winced from the act with an 'Ow!'.

-"Wha- Is your shoulder hurt? Did you encounter bears? How did you fight them?", he kept asking, barely giving the self-proclaimed adventurer any time to breathe.

-"I-It's nothing, just a bad landing, that's all. I mean, we were fighting bears, wolves, and flying beavers with nothing but our wits and bravery, the Heros of the For-Hey!", he tried to finish his sentence, only to be dragged by the sailor to his bed and forced to sit on it.

-"Oh, what am I ever going to do with your mother!", he grumbled, taking the first-aid kit they kept under the bed for emergency situations and trying to manipulate it with his one hand. "She just...she just thinks it's some jolly old fun to bring you over like it's nothing! Like you'll just bounce back from a fifty-meter jump and be okay!", he kept ranting himself as he took out some bandages and started unpacking them before heading to Dewey and starting to cover his wounds.

-"Heeeey! I told you I was fine, Unca' Donald.", the duckling huffed, unable to resist his uncle's medical aid as he kept putting bandages wherever he could reach. "And...Mom's trying her best, you know. No reason to get all mad, y'know...", he added, looking both offended and embarrassed.

-"I know she is.", Donald softly mumbled, putting the last of the bandages. Dewey's face wasn't too far from a mummy at this point. "It's just...sometimes her best isn't the best for everyone, and it's not her fault but...I'd rather you _don't_ get mauled by a bear, Dewey.", he explained, taking a step back and paying attention not to let the tube in his hand tilt. Last thing he needed was to stand there again holding a tube full of water because the first one got spilled.

-"Yeah...me too, I guess.", he conceded, rubbing his arm and trying to chuckle. Donald responded in kind, trying to make his nephew be more at ease. "But she's so cool whenever she does it. How she kicked that bear and then it just turned over and winced in pain.", he dreamily recounted, looking to the ceiling before coming back to reality.

-"She kicked a bear and it just turned over?", Donald repeated, baffled; he knew his sister was strong, but weren't bears made for fighting harsh fights? Layers of fat and all that?

-"Well, I didn't get to see the fight in all its glory, but all I saw was that she flipped over the bear, managed to go behind him, and then she...kicked...", the young adventurer clenched his fists, enthusiastically recalling what his mother did until the realization dawned on all of them. ' _Oooooh_ ', was all he and Donald could say for a minute.

-"I don't understand. What did she do?", Webby asked, tilting her head as she carried some machines around the room.

-"O-Oh, it's nothing, Webby. Nothing at all.", he was lying through his teeth. Donald knew she knew. But as long as he wasn't the one who needed to tell her, all was going to be fine. " _Ahem_...Regardless of her strategies, you're not going to be your mother in one day, Dewey. De-, uh, sorry, your mom is an extremely talented person, but she also...slips. She needed years of broken bones, internal injuries and other injuries to reach where she is now. All I'm saying is that you can learn it all from her the easy way without breaking your neck. I know, not very fun to you,", he paused to add under his breath 'somehow', getting a glare from Dewey, "But it's what I think is better. You don't have to prove anything to us, you know.", he finished both talking and applying some extra bandages, looking at his nephew.

-"I can't promise anything; I can and probably will _dew_ anything.", the blue-shirted duck began, receiving a sigh, "But it makes enough sense. I guess I don't _have_ to be the star of every adventure, but...eh. Maybe I can sit back sometimes. The world needs a break from my awesomeness from time to time.", he finished, flashing his titular proud smile and forcing Donald to hold a smile, making the former's smile drop a bit. Oh, the world needed a break from Dewey alright. Just not for those reasons.

-"Yeah, Unca' Donald has a point, mom means well, but a bear's teeth are stronger than good will.", Huey added, though almost absently as he kept tinkering with the various machines throughout the room and re-reading his notes, as proven by his late response. "This just...this just...It doesn't add up! _NONE_ of these numbers add up! The conclusion...it's wrong! Incorrect! It...It...", he yelled, almost unable to form a coherent sentence at the end. Oh, no. He was going into another rush of his. "Show me the tube, Unca' Donald!", he ordered as he made his way over to his older relative, who tried to remain calm. He did not succeed too well.

-"Uh, Webby? Did...did Huey take some sugar? What's going on in here?", Dewey asked the enthusiastic young duckling, who followed Huey to the triplets' bed.

-"Oh, it's nothing. Huey's been researching the surrounding gravity of the mansion to make sure it didn't change gravity or anything after it nearly got destroyed a couple dozen of times with us inside it!", clenching her fists and raising them to the air, her enthusiasm would've been infectious if Huey didn't look on the brink of a meltdown.

-"Riiiiight...", the blue-shirted triplet processed as his brother practically ripped the tube from his uncle's hand. "And he's doing this becauuuuse...?"

-"Oh, well, he spilled his milk this morning.", she immediately answered, reflecting on her words. "Yeah, not the best incentive, but it's for the greater good!", she confidently boasted, turning to her research-partner. "Right, Huey?"

-"The...The water's okay? How is it okay?! WHY IS IT OKAY?! _I NEED TO KNOW_!", said research partner was currently yelling at a tube of perfectly okay water, as any great man in history did. His eyes bulged and he ground his beak, looking ever so close to that breaking point.

-"Uh...Listen, Huey, I wasn't there this morning...but is a spilled milk cup really worth all of...this? Your hand probably just slipped. I spilled my milk last week, too.", well, that wasn't exactly true, but Donald didn't have to let them know that he mixed up which hand was holding the cup and which one was holding the brush. In his defence, he'd just woken up and...yeah, that was the only thing he could say for himself.

-"No, you don't understand! I've been pouring myself a glass of milk every morning for three years! I mastered a technique of holding the bottle and the cup for _three_ years! What if I needed this technique for a dangerous artefact...or...or...Or maybe so Scrooge's keys don't fall down a drain! What if I needed to fly a plane with this knowledge and it fails me like it did now?!", ah, how Donald loved Huey's rants. He was just so passionate about the things he did. If there wasn't a chance of him picking up a knife or some other dangerous object and going around on rampage with it, he'd have encouraged him to do it more. No pent up feelings and all that jazz. It was also threatening that his left hand had a screwdriver that looked just a bit too sharp to be waved around.

-"Well...when the time comes to that, you'll come up with a solution. I know you will.", he smiled encouragingly, making his ranting nephew look at him and eyeing the screwdriver in his hand. "But sometimes, a glass of milk is just that. A glass of milk. There's no bigger meaning behind it most of the time and you don't need to beat yourself over it.", he argued, slightly snapping Huey out of his momentary madness. "And that's _uncle_ Scrooge to you, Huey."

Well, yes, there were times when knowing how to play the guitar saved him and his family, and screwing that up would've killed them all, but in the end, you need to prepare yourself mentally for when the time comes, and not by beating yourself for every small or big mistake. There are times for that, but this was certainly not one of them. Donald would know. He did it as an emo teenager. Man, he missed those days. Why did going emo fall out of fashion?! It's all about gothic movements these days, and he wasn't about those clothes.

-"I...Yeah, you're right.", the mad-scientist in Huey gave the wheel back to his rational self. Thank goodness. No new paint-coats for this screwdriver. "Sometimes a glass of milk is just that. Milk.", he repeated, taking the tube out of his uncle's hand and letting the water fall. "Thanks, unca' Donald. I needed that. Don't know what came over me there for a moment.", he too smiled, allowing the houseboat sailor to pat his shoulder.

-"Bah, don't sweat it, Huey! We all had this moment when we went on an insane scientific adventure to prove something that's probably unreal because we...uh...Yeah, I can't dig myself out of that one.", Webby admitted, slumping near the end of her sentence as she suddenly looked a bit tired. Helping Huey all day on his quest probably wasn't the easiest thing to do today. The quadro of ducks shared a laugh.

-"C'mere, Huey.", the older duck held his arms out, allowing his nephew to nestle in for a hug. He gestured to the two other ducklings.

-"GROUP-HUG!", taking advantage of the situation, Webby grabbed Dewey's arm and threw the both of them onto the sailor, who felt the air get knocked out of him for a moment as the two ducklings slammed into his stomach. Regaining his breath, he wrapped his hands around the three duckling around him.

-"Okay that's enough.", Dewey was the first to pull out, never one for too much emotional content when he didn't need it. The other two slowly pulled out, looking satisfied.

-"Welp. I guess it's time to clean this mess up.", the former mad-scientist in Huey was now firmly dead, it seemed. He let out a sigh, looking at the various contraptions he had set up in the room.

-"Don't worry about it, Huey, we can help you out. Not like I'll be doing much like this, anyways...", his brother gave him a pat on his back, pointing with his other hand to the various bandages that covered his face.

-"And _I_ can help you, too! I want to get back granny's knives and laser guns, you know.", the young Vanderquack chimed in, looking cheerful as always, but a bit more down-to-earth now that the experiment she was assisting in turned out to be a bust. She pointed at a strange device that was, surprise surprise, made with various knives and what looked to be laser guns tapped together. What was even the point of that thing? To look science-y?

-"Ah, goodie, I think I'll help, too.", Donald added, trying to encourage this little aide-circle. He didn't really want his nephews to live in what looked like a madman's dump, which...for a few hours, it was.

-"Actually...I think you'd better prepare to try and bail Louie out of a lawsuit.", Huey suggested, starting to pick up the papers and small machines that covered the floor.

-"Oh, come on, Huey, I'm certain Louie is smart enough to not get himself into much trouble!", even before the older Duck finished his answer, the room's occupants began laughing. Oh, what a scenario that would be. Louie, not getting himself into trouble while searching for fortune. What a joke. "Yeah, okay, you're probably right.", he finally concluded, heading to the room's door and opening it before turning his head back, "Now, if you kids need anything, you can tell me, alright?"

-"Yes, Unca' Donald.", the three ducklings replied in unison with their usual boredom to his patronising acts. Ah, how he loved that tone of theirs.

Closing the door behind him, Donald started going down the stairs, taking in a deep breath. Well. This wasn't really the way he thought he'd be spending his afternoon, but you know what? It wasn't like he was complaining. A small bonding session with the boys was as good as any, after all, and the little motivational speech at the end? Mhmmmm, peak uncle performance right there.

 _Good job, humble Donald, you did well._ What, he was allowed some sort of internal pride, wasn't he? If Gladstone could do it externally because he's lucky, then he could feel some pride for being a good uncle. He hoped. Well, thinking about it now...a good uncle wouldn't have let Louie go get himself into trouble...Hmm...

Well, maybe he wasn't a _perfect_ uncle, but with _his_ uncle and sister promoting this adventurous life-style, there was only so much he could do. Besides, people learn when bad things happen to them. He just had to hope nothing _too_ bad happens, which, luckily, it doesn't. Most times. 

He shielded his eyes as he got out of the building and had his eyes blinded by the sun and thought back to the smiles Dewey, Huey, Louie and Webby gave him. What he would do to have them smile like this all the time. Take that, Della, today, Donald had won the...uh...race? The contest of who's a better parent-figure? Well...all of them were good parent-figures but...Oh, forget it! What mattered was that he felt he did something good today and that was it. 

He basked in that feeling of pride for a moment, opening his houseboat's main door before noticing a small green figure running towards the mansion from an enraged older man. What worried Donald wasn't the situation; it was that whatever Louie did, it made this man, who couldn't have been any younger than eighty, manage to wake his dormant muscles.

 _Well,_ he thought, _guess it's time for more uncle-business_. Ooooh, that was good. Maybe he could make it a catchphrase and actually copy-right it. 

Whenever he calmed this older gentleman, of course. He took a step forward, readied his mind, and mentally prepared to save Louie from a butt-kicking. Yep. Typical Tuesday, alright, and he couldn't be a happier uncle about it.

**Author's Note:**

> And so, my first writing request, fini! Finally, I did it, Anonymous! Please excuse the terrible, terrible delay, but I tried my best to 'smooth out' the rough edges here.
> 
> In any case, here's Tuesday With The McDucks. I was tempted to name it Donald's Dairy Adventure, but I went with a more boring name because I am a boring person with little imagination when it comes to titles. I had tons of fun with this one; it is my first time trying to write Donald and the kids, but I did have plenty of experience reading comics and watching the shows, so that must give me something, yeah?
> 
> The scenario was entirely made up as I moved along. I tried to involve the main quadro of children without making it feel too forced, as such, I tried making the transitions fluid, and I tried my best to keep the characters true to their...well, character. I used both the Comics and the 2017 show as the base of my knowledge, so I hope that helps.
> 
> Donald is always a fun one to write, he's caring, nice, and heroic, but he can also be arrogant, aggressive, and violent. He's either the hero or the villain, as Carl Barks said once. This time, keeping with the request's theme of fluff, I made him the hero. I tried encapsulating a sense of jealousy towards Della and Scrooge without making it seem (too) arrogant on his part. His interactions with the boys are dominated by fluff and good-will, as you can see.
> 
> I tried including each duckling without making them a one-line character. I hope each of the sub-stories they present are compliant with their characters and both fun to read. I like comedy, so I tried adding it here.
> 
> And that is all I really have to say about this one. If you have any feedback, criticism or comments, I would love to hear them! I appreciate every one of them, so please, leave your thoughts and feedback.
> 
> Anyways, until next time, as always, stay safe and see ya'!


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